"Blind justice" is an ideal of unbiased legal decisions. In the late 1400's, the lawyer and satirist Sebastian Brant whimsically combined two Tarot cards to account for how Justice got her blindfold. It's the Fool playing a prank!

[For more information about Sebastian Brant, see Giornale Nuovo.]

Tarot cards inspired by cities or places are magical for the way they bring Tarot archetypes and images off the page and into the world. I'm thinking specifically of Craig Conley's Trump L'Oeil Tarot, inspired by the Welsh village of Portmeirion, and the Tarot of Prague by Karen Mahony and Alex Ukolov. My choice for a city-themed Tarot is Naples, the most soulful city in Italy. Naples has all the elements required for a deck: an ancient history, beautiful art and architecture, a vibrant religious sensibility, and natural beauty.

Founded as a Greek colony which later became a part of the Roman Empire, the city was ruled by a succession of rulers who left their imprint on its art, architecture, and culture. In addition, it features an abundance of beautiful and historic churches. In selecting images for the Major Arcana, I would make some changes that reflect the city's natural and religious heritage.

In place of the Tower, I would substitute Vesuvius. Turner's painting of Vesuvius in Eruption, shown above, perfectly captures the destructive power and terrible beauty of Naples' most famous natural landmark. All the ideas of catastrophe, ruin, and devastation symbolized by the Tower are contained in this volcano.

* * *

In place of the Pope, I would put in the city's beloved patron saint, Saint Januarius, or San Gennaro. He was a Bishop in Benevento in the 4th century who was martyred. While substituting San Gennaro would mean demoting this card, not giving him a place of honor in the deck would not do justice to a Neapolitan Tarot.

* * *

Going through the city's historic center in search of appropriate images for the rest of the Trumps would be a challenging and rewarding project. For the minor arcana, I would use a deck of Neapolitan playing cards. The end result would be a visually and historically rich deck, and a lovely tribute to a remarkable city.

"It was as if the Tarot was helping me find the meaning I knew had been there, but which I'd lost along the way."

—Lucy Cavandish, "The Oracle Tarot," Pop! Goes the Witch

In early Tarot decks, the figure of the Hermit was variously known as Il Gobbo, the Hunchback, Il Vecchio, the Old Man, or simply Tempo, Time. Ideas regarding the passage of time, infirmity, old age, and even a hint of death were all present in this image. The Old Man is someone who has reached a stage in his life where he recognizes that, in the words of Ecclesiastes, all is vanity, and his awareness of the transitory nature of human events has given him a certain detachment from the affairs of the world along with a measure of wisdom.

The engraving by Johann Woelfle, shown above, of a work by 17th century artist Gerard Dou contains many of the elements one associates with the Hermit card: the lamp, which represents illumination, along with solitude and contemplation. The book and crucifix underscore the Hermit's religious devotion and search for truth and wisdom, while the skull is a memento mori, reminding us all of our mortality. This Hermit is not wandering, however, as is often the case with this card.

In another engraving by Woelfle, this time of a work by Thomas de Keyser, we have a mendicant monk. He represents the more classical aspect of the Hermit who wanders alone, though here we see him taking a rest. He appears to be in a meditative state, completely unto himself, apart from society and its concerns.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent.

Lord Byron

A long-lost Tarot card, found at last? Or merely an evocative illustration by Tarot artist Pamela Colman Smith?

"It looks as if what we ask of oracles, at some stage or another, in some place or another, is nothing less than everything."

—Michael Wood, The Road to Delphi

When I saw this cigarette card published by Wills cigarettes of a Roman centurion, I thought it would be perfect for my virtual Classical Tarot. I've substituted Centurions for the more traditional Knights, and this fellow fits the bill. Since he's linked to Julius Caesar, who is the Emperor of Wands, I'd make him the Centurion of Wands.


Fast forward a few hundred years to this strapping 8th century Viking. I think he'd be great in a Norse themed Tarot.

Is every person one meets a facet of the Tarot, evoking or provoking our own Tarot archetypes? Consider this discussion by psychologist Robert B. Marchesani:

It may be . . . that we are not who we think we are, at least until we settle into an acceptance of our ability to act as many others; maybe all the others we've ever loved or been loved by have shown us ourselves, echoed ourselves and muted ourselves, perhaps even called us to new selves. We become other than we thought we were in the face of difference. We respond in kind. We speak of people bringing out the worst in us and people bringing out the best in us. Some provoke, others evoke. But maybe it's not such a bad thing to see our cards being put on the table one by one over the course of our lives. Like a Tarot deck, some are portents, others are great hope. Or like any deck of playing cards, some are the ones we are looking for, the ones we need in the moment depending on where we are in the game. Others we put behind the rest may be the very ones we seek out later in the game.

—Saints and Rogues

This is a turn of the twentieth century poster for Vicereine shoes. I couldn't help but think of the RWS Queen of Wands when I saw this image. The yellow and red in this poster echo those colors in Smith's interpretation of this court card.

I think the shoe queen would make a lovely Queen of Wands in her own right. The only change I would make (aside from removing all the commercial references) is substituting a wooden staff for the one she holds.